


Skywalker

by Nyyrikki



Series: Word of the day [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 07:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7674844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyyrikki/pseuds/Nyyrikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk doesn't like spending shore-leave on Earth. Spock thinks shore-leave is a waste of time.</p><p>Inspired by Wiktionary's word of the day (May 4th).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skywalker

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first ever fanfic. Originally posted in K/S Archive.

**Skywalker**

_Noun. One who walks in the sky._

 

The refit was taking longer than estimated.

The crew of the Enterprise was enjoying a prolonged shore-leave on Earth between missions. The only person _not_ enjoying the shore leave was the captain. James T. Kirk had not been thrilled about the prospect of spending three weeks earthside, but he had known the crew needed time to relax and had accepted the necessity of bringing the Enterprise to dock. After he had dutifully visited his mother for two days, a feat which Spock had privately thought Jim would not even try to accomplish, he had taken up residence in one of the small apartments Starfleet offered to temporarily house officers who had no other accommodations or otherwise wished to stay in the vicinity of the headquarters. Spock had claimed quarters for himself as well so that he might utilize Starfleet’s facilities for some experiments he wanted to run. Jim had thought it was blasphemous to work on shore-leave. Spock had thought it was the only worthwhile use of his time.

He had been wrong.

On his first night in San Francisco Jim came to find Spock in the labs to tell him that he was bored, and then to persuade him to join the captain for dinner. Thinking it impolite to refuse, since he had been about to leave the lab anyway, Spock agreed. The replicated food of the mess hall had been perfectly edible and the company agreeable.

On the second night Jim waltzed in, declaring that ‘shore leave sucked’ and then interrogated him about the experiment he was working on at the time. Nothing critical was going on, so Spock had patiently answered the captain’s questions. The discussion went on long into the night. By the time Jim left and Spock turned back to his experiment, the specific stage of cell division he had wished to observe in the cells he had experimented on had already passed. Even knowing that most of the day’s work had been wasted, he was not disappointed. Kaiidth, he would simply start again on the morrow.

On the third night Jim once again came to the lab and asked about Spock’s day. They briefly discussed the day’s events, but the captain left shortly after Spock politely informed him of his wish to finish the experiment he had started the day before. Despite being interested in finally completing his experiment, Spock admitted to himself that he felt some regret upon watching Jim take his leave.

On the fourth night Jim came to ask Spock if he had time for a game of chess. Naturally, they proceeded to play five matches instead of one, only stopping when they hit a draw and Jim yawned loudly.

On the fifth night, Spock went looking for Jim. They went to dinner in a small vegetarian restaurant near the HQ instead of the mess hall. This time the food was as agreeable as the company.

On the eleventh night they walked silently, side by side, on a dark beach. It was a bit nippy by his standards, but Spock found he didn’t mind. The waves were lazily licking the shore and a soft gust of wind occasionally stirred his hair. This was a deviation from their daily routine of dinner, chess and discussions that lasted well into the night, but Jim had insisted on coming to the beach. Spock had not seen the attraction of visiting the convergence of sand and water at a time of day when one could not even see far into the distance, but had nonetheless agreed to accompany the fickle human. Now he was beginning to think he understood the pull this place had on Jim. It was far enough from the bustle of the city to be quiet and calm. The ocean waves glittered in the moonlight and he could barely make out the line where sea turned into cloudless sky, dotted with bright pinpricks of light. There was nothing and no one to disturb them here, nothing to distract them while they walked. Occasionally their fingers would brush together in the most fleeting of touches, but neither drew away from the other’s side and neither spoke.

On the sixteenth night Spock worked late. By the time he left the lab he thought it was too late to bother Jim, even if he would not have objected to spending some time with his captain before he retired. He went as far as reaching out to sounding the chime on Jim’s door, but instead of pressing the button, he let his hand drop and went to his own quarters. Sleep eluded him that night.

On the seventeenth night they played chess again, as they often did. There was a tension in the air that Spock did not quite know how to interpret. Their eyes locked over the chessboard and there was a glint of something in Jim’s eyes. They only played one game that night, but it took several hours to conclude. Spock lost.

On the twentieth night Spock worked late again. This time Jim came to the lab just as he was packing up. They walked back to the building that held their temporary quarters together, and Spock could smell a faint note of alcohol in his captain’s breath as he talked. He did not need to ask; Jim told him he had been out with Mr. Sulu and Doctor McCoy and was only just returning. They arrived at Jim’s door first. Spock paused and turned to say goodnight, but instead found a hand grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him forward, cool human lips pressing themselves against his. Before he could react both the hand and lips were gone and Jim’s door had swished shut.

On the night they were originally scheduled to leave, Jim did not come to the lab, and he was not in his quarters when Spock went to look for him. Someone else might have taken this as a sign that he did not wish to be found, but Spock was not deterred.

Jim was standing nose almost touching the transparent aluminium of the observation deck. There were engineers and techs on the Enterprise around the clock, trying to finish the refit as quickly as they could, but here at least it was quiet. He gazed out at the stars, glad they had not shut the silver lady inside the space station. Jim wished he could take her out there already instead of being stuck down there on that blue ball of dirt. He had actually for once been enjoying shore leave instead of feeling unbearably restless, but now he had managed to screw that up too. He didn’t know how he would spend the remaining however-many-days they had left before shipping out, and he didn’t know how he could face his first once that time was up. Maybe he should run away and refuse to face his embarrassment. He could hop on a ship to Risa and become a stripper, he had heard you could make good money doing that. He would need a stage name though, something memorable –

His musings were interrupted by the touch of a hotter-than-human hand on his shoulder. He turned to face the owner of that hand and was immediately pinned between the cool surface of transparent aluminium and the hot body of his Vulcan first officer. One hand found the side of Jim’s jaw and tilted it slightly upward while the long, slim fingers of the other wound their way in his hair to cradle the back of his head. His hands made their way to Spock’s waist on their own, pulling him hard against the his own body just as their lips met in a deep, flaming kiss that left them both panting, breathless.

They might be meant to walk in the sky, but they could certainly make the best of their shore-leave, too.


End file.
